


dear stars, earth is where i leave my heart.

by theadamantdaughter



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Drabble, M/M, Shadam, adashi, no happy ending, or i guess it's like ambiguous happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-15 17:13:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15417696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theadamantdaughter/pseuds/theadamantdaughter
Summary: a sad? sweet? a semisweet adashi drabble, written in ten minutes, cleaned up over the very short course of five.pre-kerberos. s7 spoilers.





	dear stars, earth is where i leave my heart.

**Author's Note:**

> i had to get out some feelings for these guys, and i’m sorry, but i just can’t fathom adam and shiro ending poorly. let it be amicable. let shiro have hope. i don’t want to think about shiro sitting in a galra prison wondering if he has anything left to live for (but that’s another fic lmao).

The crowd blurs around him, a stream of colors, a chorus of sounds. He should be able to hear it, relish it, maybe interact with the children and the young cadets, pose for photos and match their excitement— but, he can't. The cheers mean nothing to him; the faces make no sense. They're just shapes and different skin tones and open, moving mouths calling his name.

His footsteps, grey boots on gravel, crunch heavily, drowning it all out.

He doesn't dare hope for it, for the voice he _wants_ to hear. He doesn't dare dream of a heartfelt cry amongst the clamorous noise. They've been over for months. They said their goodbyes— as hard and long and inevitable as they were; the tears have fallen. Wishing for anything now, it's pointless. 

So, he clamps down on it, on the budding ache in his chest, on the urge to scan the many well-wishers. His helmet offers a cool, hard surface to clench between his fists. His cropped hair, longer bangs falling in his eyes, offers a refuge from any who might search his pinched smile.

Straight ahead. Keeping going. Patience yields focus.

It's a chorus he sings everyday, a chorus he's sung for weeks. He's dying, so what's it matter anyway? This is better for Adam; a clean break, a swift end to any more heartache. He can watch news reports of the Kerberos mission jetting into the sky and move on, forget their life. And for Shiro, it means—

What does it mean? 

Loneliness. Regret. Fuck, he loves the stars, but Earth is clawing at his heart. 

Shiro's grip on the lip of his helmet tightens. He listens to the protests of his leather gloves as his fists ball up.

Almost there. Fill your lungs. _Patience. yields. focus._

Still, somber eyes flash over the crowd, grey as broken as brittle metal. His chest expands with a feeling he hates.  _Come on, Adam. Come on._ It builds him up for each new face, tears him back down at each unfamiliar gaze. 

God, he could cave... but, he doesn't. He holds it in, he keeps himself calm. If there's one talent Shiro has, it's defying all the odds. Illness. Politics. Adam— He's still going to space. This is what he's fought for, trained for, worked towards. This is what he's always wanted. 

Isn't it? 

Shiro gives up on the crowd, casts his eyes down. The shuttle is maybe fifty meters away; the send-off party, the Holts, Iverson, Keith, and a myriad of higher-ups await. He'll make it. He'll hug his brother goodbye and fly off to the outer reaches of space.

It's his dream. Right?

Just as he swallows down tears, just as he steps onto the metal platform housing generals and crew and the rocket—

"Takashi!" An all-too-familiar voice breaks out of the shouted cries. "Takashi, wait!" 

There's a scuffle, a parting of people. Shiro hears apologies and hissed curses as the crowd quiets and waits, bated breaths held collectively to see what's coming. He hears his name again, and he tells himself not to believe it, to look away before his brain plays anymore games, but then he sees him. 

Adam.

He bursts through the sea of colors and faces, tear-streaked cheeks glistening in the sun's beaming rays.

Shiro does break, right then. He nearly folds on himself, a sob tearing at his lips. Adam jogs to him, ignoring Iverson's annoyed commands, _'fall back in line, officer!'_ He slams into Shiro, like a wave, like the wind. And, Shiro breaks. 

"What are you doing?" he asks, helmet clanging against the metal platform, arms wrapping tight, then tighter. He could squeeze the air out of Adam; a part of him wonders if he is, with a hand around his ribs and digging in, the other cording Adam's soft hair. 

"I had to see you," Adam's words are muffled by Shiro's neck. "We didn’t leave things in a good place and I have to—” 

“Adam.”

“No, it’s okay." Adam lifts his head, shakes it.

Shiro knows he can read the warning imbued in his name, and he prays Adam hasn't come here to fight him one last time. But, Adam smiles. It's small, it's tired; it's loving and relieving. "You don’t— I’m not here to convince you to stay. I'm here to tell you I was wrong, and tell you to go. Go and be great." 

Fresh tears start, spilling with the quiver of Adam's bottom lip and meeting at the end of his jaw, where Shiro's pool, too. 

Shiro can feel him trembling within their embrace, so he pulls Adam back in, presses private kisses to Adam's neck and chin, tries to soothe this man that he'll never stop wanting. 

"I love you, Adam." 

"I know, Takashi. I love _you._ If, no— _when._ " Their hug ends with that word. Adam steps back, his hands sliding up from the small of Shiro's waist to rest on his biceps. He looks firm, definite. "When you come back, I'll be right here waiting. Don't forget me."

Overwhelmed, overjoyed, Shiro tosses any care for the audience out. He's always been less of an affectionate man with so many watching, saving his displays of love and tenderness for quiet, personal moments. But, right now, he doesn't care. Right now, his fingers are sliding up Adam's neck into his hair, and he's tugging, kissing, pouring everything he feels into this one, fierce kiss.

Because, they both know, it could be their last. 

And, he can't quite grasp the words to tell Adam how grateful he is, how much he'll cherish this. There may be fights to come in the ship's communication hub. There may be battles that await when Shiro comes home. But, he'll cling to this happy moment, he'll remember it when the night's away turn endless and bleak. 

Shiro pulls back. He pecks Adam's nose, and he whispers:

"I couldn't." 


End file.
